


One-Shots

by Belindaduvessa



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-06 10:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3130949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belindaduvessa/pseuds/Belindaduvessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Series of one-shots.</p><p>All works are also prompt based.  It started with the OTP Bootcamp Challenge and has just blossomed from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. InJustice

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written with my Time Rewritten Universe in mind. Since I am revamping it, it can be taken in canon. There are no real spoilers and it doesn't really seem to fit in any particular spot in Series 1. Set some time after 'World War Three' for sure.

_I do not own Doctor Who_

Pairing: Nine/Rose

in·jus·tice  
/ɪnˈdʒʌstɪs/  Show Spelled [in-juhs-tis] Show IPA 

**noun**

1\. the quality or fact of being unjust; inequity.

2\. violation of the rights of others; unjust or unfair action or treatment.

3\. an unjust or unfair act; wrong.

 

_ **Injustice** _

I wasn't fair.  He knew, without a doubt, that he was homely with this face.  His last body had the looks, and the moves, to woo a girl.  This body, though, was born out of War and desperation.  But Rose never failed to make him feel wanted and loved.  It was unfair, really, that her beautiful smile could light up his world.  He knew that this daft old face couldn't compete.

 

When he stumbled upon Rose with the 'pretty boy', he was almost incensed.  A wave of jealousy that he didn't even know he was capable washed over him.  But a gentle brush of a mind across his made him stop.  This pretty boy, with his striped suit and spiky hair, was  _him_ .  It was him making Rose laugh, making her smile and laugh and act so  _carefree_ .  Not this daft face.

 

No, this daft face delighted in showing her the worst of the Universe.  First her planet burning, then not listening to her with the Gelth.  If he were honest with himself, and he rarely was, it would probably be better for Rose to be with this pretty version.  At least  _he_ seemed to know how to show her the beauty of the world.  The Doctor sighed.  It was just unfair to Rose to be stuck with a muck up like him.

 

A hand in his startles him from his self-loathing.  He looks down at then hand that is now holding his and she smiles at him, tongue in teeth.  He smiles back and can't help but wonder that maybe, things weren't as bad as he thought, so long as he always has her hand to hold.

 


	2. Unmasked Version 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my original writings of my Time Rewritten Universe, I had put that Jimmy had sexually assaulted Rose as well as taken her money and leaving her in debt. There is a slight trigger warning for mentions of that in this chapter. It is very brief and towards the end.

_I do not own Doctor Who._

_I've written like, 4 versions of this so far._

_Also, sorry it's taken so long to get any update from me. We just moved and are still unpacking. I'm hoping to have the next chapters of both Once Again, Rose Tyler and Joshua Noble up soon._

**Unmasked**

**Pairing:** 9 th Doctor/Rose  
 **Setting:** Set in my Time Rewritten Universe. A Masquerade Ball somewhere in the 19t Century.

**~DW~~DW~~DW~**

It was supposed to be a night out for the two of them. However, the Doctor quickly realized that Rose expected him on the Dance Floor. He hadn't danced in ' _ages_ '. This body felt uncomfortable and he didn't want to disappoint her.

He brought her to a masquerade ball in the later 19th Century. They wore matching outfits (compliment of the TARDIS. He was thinking of having a talk with his ship. He wasn't 'cute' and she needed to stop trying to make them into some cute couple.) Her black and gold mask hid the right side of her face, and his the left. She wore a black dress trimmed with gold. His suit was black as well. No gold trimmings adorned the suit.

**~DW~~DW~~DW~**

They stay on the edges of the room, observing the ebb and flow of the night. Despite the fact that this was _HIS_ idea, he is still unsure about getting on the dance floor. Rose hasn't asked, either. Nor has she wandered off to dance with anyone else. Many have tried. It is a masquerade and technically, the fun is to try and guess who everyone is. But the only person she wants to dance with is next to her, too unsure to even get out on the floor.

He's a coward and he knows it. Dancing with Rose in the privacy of the TARDIS is one thing. He enjoys that immensely. But in public, for others to scrutinize? No, he's not sure he has the courage for that.

He's broken from his thoughts by her grabbing his hand and gently pulling. He finds himself following her to the dance floor and he's amazed that he isn't resisting. But the coy little smile that she shoots his way has him willing to do whatever she wishes.

It seems that what she wishes at this moment is to dance. He stares at her a long moment before they start to move. He has two left feet for a couple of steps before he remembers how to dance. And dance they do.

He loses track of time. Her whiskey eyes draw him in and he falls willingly. All he knows is the feel of her body flowing with his, smooth as silk. His focus narrows to just her and him together. He barely registers the clock striking twelve. At least, until her hand grasps the side of his mask, lifting it gently. As if in a dream, he does the same to her own. He cups her face gently, stroking her cheek with his thumb. She leans into his touch. When she looks up, the mask of uncertainty she normally wears with him has fallen. She no longer looks the victim of abuse of long ago, but a woman staring into the eyes of the man she loves.


	3. Unmasked Version 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a slightly more sexually charged version of this prompt. It also features a bit of Possessive!Nine. I also have no beta, so all mistakes are my own. I think this one changes tenses a couple of times. Sorry about that.

**Pairing** : 9/Rose  
 **Setting** : Again, a masquerade. This one features a slightly more possessive Nine.

**Unmasked**

_France, 1862_

He'd taken her to a Masquerade. Flowing black dress with gold trim, corset, and comfortable shoes. The entire outfit was similar to what she had worn to Cardiff. He wore a matching suit, reminiscent of his last body, cravat and all. Their masks also matched.

They had danced most of the night. Granted, he hadn't started out on the floor. Seeing her dance with others had woken something in him. He felt a burning deep in his gut. At first, he failed to identify it. But with each partner, the feeling intensified. It wasn't really anything Rose was doing. Any time one would get too close, too friendly, she would kindly step away and take her leave. It made him feel good that she was having fun (and not getting too close), but also (irritated?) that it wasn't him she was having fun with. It confused him. Instead of trying to analyze it, he stuffed it down, ignoring it for now. He'd examine it later,

Everything snapped with the last 'dancer'. As with the others, as soon as he become too close, she would step off. The difference, what made the Doctor growl and start after them, was how he grabbed Rose's arm. She flinched, panic rising across her face, and he snapped.

He stalked across the room, other dancers evading him. Every couple seemed to know what his mission was and let him to it, easily and quickly getting out of his way. He keeps his eyes on the 'pretty boy' man-handling his Rose. He plasters on a smile and taps him on the shoulder.

“May I cut in?” He was trying to be polite. Really. But Rose's relieved face sets him on edge again.

“No, you may not. The lady is dancing with me.” The pretty boy practically spat in the Doctor's face. The Doctor, much calmer than he was actually feeling, grabbed the man's wrist, just hard enough to get his attention. It worked.

“No, see, she's with me. And even from across the room I can tell she's had enough of you.”

“I haven't had enough of her. No-” He didn't get a chance to finish. The Doctor wrenched his hand around and spun him, effectively pinning his arm behind his back. He leans in close, practically growling in the man's ear.

“Leave her be.” He pushed the man, sending him sprawling. He waited a moment, to see what the man will do. He glared at the Doctor as he got up and shook himself. But he turns and walked away, leaving them alone. The Doctor expected to get escorted off the premises, but that didn't happen. It seemed every woman in the room disliked the man, if the looks of disdain were anything to go by. He didn't leave her side for the rest of the night.

He never fancied himself a dancer. Not in this body at least. That was part of why he was so hesitant to get on the dance floor. But now, with Rose in his arms, he forgets his worries and fears and lives in the moment. It's been so long since he's been able to live in the moment, without running from his past or his responsibilities. It feels nice to lead her across the dance floor. And if Rose is any indication, his dancing skills are more than sufficient.

As midnight approaches, he starts getting anxious. The tension between them has become charged as the night wears on and now, he itches to unmask her and see her beautiful face.

The clock strikes twelve.  
They both reach up, removing the other's mask. Simultaneously, like it was choreographed, they trace their hands down respective cheeks.  
He leans down the same time she looks up.  
The kiss his chaste, but scorching all the same. Both had dreamed of this but neither thought it would be reality. He falls quickly, letting go of his inhibitions and hopes she will catch him.

It's all they can do to make it back to the TARDIS.


	4. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one again features a Rose who was sexually assaulted. There's brief mentions of it in the chapter. It also has a bit of light bondage.

**Pairing:** 9/Rose  
 **Setting:** After 'Father's Day'  
 **Rating:** M

**Warning:** Smut and bondage.

**Trust**

She knows he's angry. He's hardly spoken a word to her since they got back to the TARDIS. He'd put them in the Vortex, wordlessly, and stalked off, TARDIS only knows where. The TARDIS strokes her mind gently, reassuringly, and Rose smiles a tight smile. The TARDIS usually knows how to cheer her up. It didn't stop Rose from feeling the angry hum she knew was coming from the Doctor. Their partial bond had been strengthened with the telepathy he has been teaching her. Even with shields in place, she can still sense him.

She wanders aimlessly through the halls of the TARDIS, letting her own anger, insecurities, and fear for the day slowly fade away. She's not mad at the Doctor, but herself. She's was the one who swanned off and left him for her father. And then, to make matters worse, she killed him. _‘Don’t touch the baby, Rose’._ He’d said it as clear as day. But it didn’t matter. She had a bad habit of not following his directions. Even the Wolf, nestled deep inside Rose’s conscious, had leapt at the opportunity to see her father again.

She has no idea how long she’s been walking the hallways, but she is tired. So tired. She slips into a doorway. It’s a room she has never seen before and it makes her gasp. Covering the walls are drawings, mostly of her. She spins in the middle of the room, trying to see all the drawings at once. Some are of their adventures. Others are of the ‘domestics’ inside the TARDIS. But the ones that really catch her eye, and make her blush, are the ones where she is naked. They have just barely begun engaging in any sexual activities. After Jimmy, opening up to that has been difficult.

And these images are wholly erotic. She stares at each in turn. In some she is alone, pleasuring herself. In others, he is with her. And even with just pencil and paper, it seems he has managed to catch the love and devotion in both of their eyes. So many things were depicted in these pictures. After a while, she decides that they are mostly the Doctor’s fantasies. She should feel uncomfortable because quite a few of them show her bound. But the ecstasy on her face makes her wonder, briefly, if she would enjoy that. This wasn’t Jimmy. This was the Doctor. Her Doctor. And if she trusts anyone, it’s him.

**~DW~~DW~~DW~**

The Doctor is angry. Not at Rose, but at himself. He knew. KNEW! He shouldn’t have taken her to see her father. It could only end in heartache, for both of them. But she bat her eyes at him and like always, he gave in. Then, he’d gotten angry when she’d wanted to get close to her dad. No matter that Rose had never met him. The Wolf should have known better. But even she was howling in anguish, wanting to see her parents again.

He sighs. No, today was really just his fault. He should have said no. He runs his hands angrily over his face. He’d marched out of the Console Room, upset, but not at Rose. She probably took it the wrong way, though.

He wanders the halls, trying to calm his own self-loathing. He’s made plenty of mistakes in his 900+ years, but he was trying not to make any with Rose. Today, he’d let his own fears get the best of him. Maybe, if he had let her have a nice, short visit, he could have avoided being eaten by Reapers. Maybe he could have avoided the heartache.

He sends the TARDIS a mental nudge, trying to see if she will tell him where Rose has run off to. It’s time he apologized to her. The TARDIS shows him a door. He knows this door. It’s his Fantasy Room. And quite a few things in there that she probably shouldn’t see yet. He starts running.

**~DW~~DW~~DW~**

She feels his apprehension and fear long before he arrives. But once he gets to the door, instead of bursting through, like she anticipates, he enters slowly, tentatively, afraid. She doesn’t turn to him, doesn’t acknowledge that she knows he is there. Instead, she stares, pointedly, at one drawing in particular. It shows her, hands bound to their shared bed. Her head is thrown back, pleasure on her face. He is between her legs, making her come undone, eyes towards her face, gauging her reaction. She feels him stop behind her, just out of reach.

“When did you draw this?” Her tone is not accusatory, just inquisitive. Her tone inspires hope in him. Not the hope that she will ever let him act on these images. Just the hope that she's not angry at him for having them in the first place. He doesn't look at her while he speaks.

“After Van Statten. One night when you were asleep. He took away all of my control. So I drew a scene where I was in total control.”

“So you drew me as out of control? Helpless?”

“Out of control and helpless in your want? Yes.” She turns to look at him, eyes blinking rapidly, a bit of confusion on her face.

“Is that what you see?”

“It's an exercise in trust, Rose. You have just as much control as I do in that situation. I'd never do anything you didn't want. All you have to do is stop me with a word. But until that word is uttered, you are a feast set out before me and it's my goal to make you scream.” The last came out as a growl, the images flitting through his mind before he could turn them off. Her writhing beneath him, screaming his name. She swallows thickly. This really shouldn't be turning her on, but it is.

“And that's not the only thing, love. This trust goes both ways. Because there's no way I would tie you down without letting you return the favor.” Their eyes meet, and for once, the desire is plain in the Doctor's eyes. He's usually so good at keeping it contained. Rose closes her eyes, trying to compose herself.

“You want this?” Her voice only trembles slightly. From fear or anticipation, she doesn't know.

“Both ways. Sometimes. Yes.”

“But not every time.” He moves close enough to touch her. She tilts her head up and opens her eyes. The desire is still there, but also concern. He reaches a tentative hand to cup her cheek. She nuzzles into his hand, lips parting slightly and eyes closing.

“Rose.” This time it is a warning. “If this isn't what you want, stop now. Otherwise, I might not be able to control myself much longer.”

She stops and steps back. Fear crosses the Doctor's face but dissolves at her reassuring smile. She grasps his hands lightly in her own and brings his hands back up to her face.

“Show me.”

“I-” She places his fingers tips on her temples and looks him in the eyes. He sees no fear there, just curiosity and anticipation. She wants this.

“Show me your fantasy, Doctor.” A command, this time. He leans forward, resting his forehead against hers and drops his hands to lightly caress her neck and shoulders. She shivers.

**~DW~~DW~~DW~**

It starts normal enough. They run back to the TARDIS after an adventure. The Doctor flips switches and turns knobs, sending them into the Vortex. But when he turns to her, his eyes are dark. He stalks towards her slowly, like a panther, and instinctually, she backs away.

“I told you not to wander off, Rose.” His voice is deep, gravelly, scraping every nerve and lighting her on fire. She's backed up against the door now. He grabs a wrist in each hand and presses them into the wood beside her head. He brings his lips to her ear.

“What will it take for you to understand that one, simple rule? Do I need to tie you down? Punish you to make you understand?” She whimpers as his breath ghosts across her skin. A soft kiss on her neck. They are moving before she registers, but she dares not look back. Every move is exceptionally gentle. Soon enough, they come to their shared bedroom. Her top and bra are off just over the threshold. He backs her against the bed and steps back, his hands still on her wrists.

“You didn't answer me, Rose.”

“Doctor-” He bites gently on her shoulder, making her moan. It's not hard enough to mark, but he kisses the spot anyway, soothing it. He leans her back until she is on the bed. He lets one wrist go, and reaches up. He ties a silken rope around her wrist, securing her. He runs his finger around, to make sure she has enough circulation. He does the same with the other wrist.

“You're going to learn, Rose. One way or another.” He peppers kisses across her shoulders. His hands stroke her torso. Rose writhes underneath him, trying to touch more of him, to make him come closer. The more she moves, the further away he gets.

“Now Rose. This is punishment. I'm going to give you exactly what you want, but on my terms. You have to learn to obey my rules.” He ghosts his breath across her skin, goose pimples rising, nipples perking. Her entire body hums with want and anticipation.

“Do you remember the safe word? In case it's too much?”

“TARDIS.” She breathes the word out, barely above a whisper, but he smiles. She's okay with this, and if she needs him to stop, all she has to do is utter the word. He dives back into his ministrations. He places open mouth kisses on her nipples, laving them with his tongue. When he's done with the first, he blows across it gently, making the peaks contract and stand tall and proud. He repeats the action with the other, careful to keep the rest of his body from touching Rose. Yes, this is about him being in control, but it is also about her pleasure.

Finally, satisfied that he has touched and teased every inch of the upper portions of her body, he scoots down to reveal the rest of her. He moves agonizingly slow, kissing, licking, teasing every inch thoroughly as he reveals it. He's careful to keep away from her center. She's openly writhing beneath him, and he loves it.

He licks up her leg, but stops, just shy of where she wants him. She's dripping now, and openly moaning, and it's almost enough to make him give in. Instead, he licks up the other leg, nibbling slightly as he goes. Finally, he relents, and ghosts his breath across her, just hard enough so she knows that he has finally placed his attention there. She arches her back, and finally, just as tired of the teasing as she is, he dives in.

He sucks, licks, and nips at her, driving them both wild in their need. He alternates between her folds and her clit, her moaning spurring him on. He has his left arm wrapped under her, hand resting on her stomach. His right is concentrating pressure directly on her clit and his tongue...oh, his tongue is doing torturous things. Diving in and out of her, his moans almost as loud as hers. A flick and a pinch and she comes undone, legs clamping around his head as he laps her down greedily.

**~DW~~DW~~DW~**

He breaks the connection and steps back, breathing heavily. True, they hadn't done anything physical. They had, however, just had mind-blowing telepathic sex for the first time and he feels a bit out of control. He looks at her, fearful of her reaction. He's surprised, and thankful, to see desire and not fear in her eyes.

“That's your fantasy? Of that picture?” He nods, words beyond him.

“Oh..oh wow. That's..that's nothing how I thought it would be.”

“Good wow or bad?”

“I...I think I might like that. Sometime.” She pauses and his eyes widen. “But...but maybe before that, I should be the one in control? So I understand?” It's phrased as a question but he just smiles a wide, relieved smile.

“Your wish is my command, Rose.”


	5. Take Me With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An AU Ending to 'Girl in the Fireplace'. Here, Nine didn't regenerate and Rose knows how to fly the TARDIS.

**Pairing:** 9th Doctor/Rose  
 **Setting:** End of The Girl in the Fireplace (SPOILERS!!)

This is a partial rendition of my ending for that. I do not plan on having The Doctor Regenerate at the end of Series One.

  
  


**Take Me With You**

“Take me with you.” She begs him. Pleads with him. He grabs her face, fiercely pressing his lips to hers. They share a passionate, heat-filled kiss before he reluctantly pulls away.

“You know I have to save her. Stay with the TARDIS. I trust you to take care of her, yourself and Mickey. I don't know how yet but I _will_ get back to you. I promise you, Rose.”

She nods, tears streaming down her face. She's afraid to speak. She watches as he mounts the horse and jumps through the window to save another woman. She crumbles in on herself before she can think not to, lost in her grief. She mentally shakes herself and stands tall and proud. She's Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. She learned long ago she had to save herself. And him. Mickey gapes at her, his head whipping back and forth between the time window and her.

“Did he just leave us?!” His voice is squeaky, afraid and it pulls Rose from the inner monologue.

“Yes, he did. And I'll be damned if I let him get away with it.” She marches back to the TARDIS, Mickey behind.

**~DW~~DW~~DW~**

Reinette, of course, tried to lure him into her bed as soon as he arrived. Well, as soon as the danger was passed. He brushes her off. Instead, he stands at the window, staring off into the stars, looking and longing for his lost love. It's been five and a half long, excruciating hours since he stepped through the window. He almost thinks at this point that he can hear the TARDIS materializing behind him. He blinks and scrunches his brows together before he turns around. There, behind him, is his beloved ship. He laughs at the impossibility of it. Which version, he doesn't know, nor does he care.

That question is quickly answered, when the doors open. There, in the doorway, stands one pink and yellow human, tongue in teeth. His Golden Goddess, come to rescue him again. His face breaks into a wide smile to match her own.

“You came for me.”

“Course I did. Promised you forever. Which means, I can't leave you stranded when your big Time Lord brain decides to leap before it thinks. How did you think you would make it back, hmm?”

“Not sure.” He steps closer, almost expecting her to step away from him. But she stands her ground. Emboldened, he wraps his arms tightly around her, crushing her to his chest.

“I almost lost you.”

“Not going to happen, Doctor. I'll always find you.”


	6. Live, Laugh, Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can be read as canon. IF you can't tell by now, Nine/Rose is my OTP. But really I just ship The Doctor and Rose, no matter the incarnation.

**Prompt:** Live, love, laugh.  
 **Pairing:** Nine/Rose  
 **Setting:** This flows more as canon than my own Universe. It can probably be read as either, though.

**Live, Laugh, Love**

_**Live**_  
Rose Tyler swung into the Doctor’s life and illuminated it like the sun. He never could pinpoint exactly when she started whittling away at the walls around his heart, but if he had to guess, it would be the first time she graced him with her tongue-touched smile. Her zest for life, he finds, is infectious. Soon enough, he can't imagine life without her. For the first time in centuries, he feels _alive_. More importantly, with her by his side, he feels the will to live life to it's fullest. Not just the danger and adventure. No, living in the softer moments and simple pleasures.

 

**Laugh**  
Her laughter echoes through the corridors to the Console Room. The sound of it sends his hearts racing. His fascination grows as he decides to investigation her apparent mirth. He walks what seems to be miles and miles of corridor. The TARDIS, evidently on Rose's side, keeps him away. Finally, she deposits him in front of a door he's never seen. That doesn't actually surprise him, really. With a ship that is infinitely bigger on the inside, there's bound to be quite a bit that he doesn't know about her.

The lilting laughing seems to be coming from beyond the door. His curiosity overrides any trepidation he might have. He grasps the handle and walks into...a fairytale. Rose stands in the middle of a field of flowers. She's wearing a long, sapphire blue dress with bell sleeves. Around her, hundreds of white butterflies float from the flowers, swirling around her gently before flying away. The entire scene is surreal, like a dream.

She turns, hands thrown up, laughing, not a care in the world. He closes his eyes, smiling brightly, and lets the sounds of her laughter wash over him.

 

**Love**  
Rose, for her backwards, ape upbringing, took to the life and adventure quite quickly. It was one of the reasons why he enjoyed having her with him. Most of their days were filled with running and adventure, with only the occasional fear for their lives. But every once in a while, Rose wanted a quiet day. A day of relaxation, without the running. At first, he was adamantly against it. The entire situation was terrifyingly domestic and he wanted no part of it. Eventually, though, he gave in.

At first, it was quiet evenings watching various movies. They would sit separately and he would criticize. Eventually, they became more comfortable. When he found she hadn't read the Harry Potter series, he made it his personal goal to read each one to her.

That's how they were tonight. Rose is cradled underneath one arm, while he holds _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ with his other hand. A thick duvet covers them both. A warm, fire crackles in the fireplace in the wall across from them. The fire is fake, but it casts a soft glow that is comforting. On nights when Rose is feeling particularly shocked, the TARDIS adjusts for heat and the faint smell of smoke as well.

Like most nights, after about five chapters, Rose's breathing has slowed and her muscles relax. He places a kiss in her hair before kicking his feet up on the ottoman. He might not sleep much, but he's loathe to disturb the woman in his arms.

He closes his eyes, thinking about the past few weeks. These quieter moments have become more frequent. And if he's honest with himself, which he rarely is, he knows it's because he wants so much to please her, to keep her with him. If she ever leaves, he doesn't know what he'll do. He does know, finally, what this emotion is that has been tickling in his gut. He won't say it out loud. Never out loud, but now, in the soft quiet of their “living room” he can admit what he can't say. Love. The feeling, is Love.


	7. Contagious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Features a Sick!Doctor. Set after Series 1 with a Doctor who doesn't regenerate. Also a Rose who was changed by the Bad Wolf.

**Pairing:** 9/Rose (from my Time Rewritten Universe)  
 **Setting:** Inside the TARDIS after an adventure. The Doctor is a bit...down.

**Contagious**

They race one another back to the TARDIS, her hand clasped tightly in his. They just usurped a vicious dictator bent on world domination. Nothing new, really. His form of control had been biological warfare, something neither Rose nor the Doctor had been happy about. While the TARDIS shields her occupants from most virus, diseases, and bacteria, there are certain things which can still get through. Even regular inoculations are only effective for so far as diseases are constantly evolving around what society can conjure to battle them.

So the Doctor is tense, wanting to check her over and ensure that she is alright. She feels fine, certainly, but one can never be too sure. He gives no consideration for himself. His superior biology will combat anything. That coupled with the TARDIS' precautions and he'll be fine, right?

**~DW~~DW~~DW~**

Given a clean bill of health, Rose left for bed ages ago. The Doctor sits in the Medical Bay, a touch of fear tinting his otherwise manic persona. Not because anything is wrong with Rose. No. It seems he's greatly overestimated his superior biology. Granted, this virus still won't be fatal for him. But he has to keep himself segregated and quarantined from Rose until he's sure he is no longer contagious. Yes, Rose's biology is changing, but this virus is still, probably, fatal for her.

He sighs and thunks his head against the bulkhead. The fever is already taking his body over. A good sleep will do him worlds of good....

**~DW~~DW~~DW~**

Rose finds their bed empty when she wakes. This in itself isn't cause for alarm. Most mornings she wakes alone. The eerie silence that seems to have blanketed the ship, however, concerns her greatly.

She tiptoes through corridors in search of him. The quiet of the ship gives her goosebumps.

The Console Room is completely abandoned and looks as if it has been since she went to bed. She walks around the room, trying to find clues as to where her Time Lord may have run off when a noise behind her startles her. The figure looks vaguely familiar, but not one she remembers seeing. Definitely not the rough version she's used to seeing.

_'This is Emergency Program One Hundred Twelve. If you're seeing this, I've contracted something and am not fit to be around. Not many things affect Time Lords, and as such I probably am not expecting this. You'll find me in the Medical Bay, and hopefully I've been mindful to leave instructions for the specific disease. A few things are the same for everything with a sick Time Lord. If I'm sleeping, leave me be. I'll be in a healing coma until I am no longer contagious. When I do wake, treat me the same as you would yourself with a cold. Lots of liquids until I can get my strength back. And thank you.'_

The recording clicks off and she stands there, staring where the figure had just stood before shaking her head and smiling slightly to herself.

“How many Emergency Programs do you have, Doctor?” She feels a wave of amusement and knows the TARDIS is laughing. Whether and him or her, she may never know. Nevertheless, she makes her way to where she now knows her Doctor to be, to nurse him back to health.

**~DW~~DW~~DW~**

When he wakes, it's to a sleeping Rose outside the room and a tray with soup and tea, still heated thanks to the TARDIS. He smiles, a soft genuine smile, before lowering the barrier between them and placing a soft kiss on her cheek. She doesn't wake, which is fine. He'll carry her to their room once he's gained a bit of strength.


	8. A is for Apology

**Pairing:** Nine/Rose **  
Setting:** In the TARDIS, after an adventure **  
Rating:** T

  
  


**A is for Apology**

He wandered the halls of the TARDIS, angry at himself for his harsh words. Rose had run off afterwards. He wasn't sure where. The TARDIS covered her path and no matter how much he begged, she refused to tell him where she had hidden Rose. She liked Rose better than him most of the time and most of the time he liked that. Now, he wasn't to sure.

It was just as well, really. It wasn't any any position to deal with himself right now, let alone her. He'd hurt her feelings with his harsh words.

Rose had wandered off again. Not only had she wandered off, she'd gotten herself kidnapped and almost sold into slavery. That in itself was bad enough, but when he'd found her, she'd been strapped down and beaten. The sight of her body, bruised and bloodied, sent him into a rage. He'd always heard of the phrase “seeing red” in regards to human anger, but had never experienced it for himself. His rage was usually cold and calculating. He'd found himself wanting to beat a message into their skulls, literally. While he generally tried to avoid violence, he knew he was quite capable of it. He'd done plenty of it during the War and had tried to mold himself into someone who didn't need violence to get his message across. But seeing Rose like that, he'd snapped.

Once he'd gotten her back to the TARDIS, he'd tended her wounds with practiced care. He was still fuming inside, but he made sure he didn't take his anger out on her tender body. He cleaned her wounds, then used the sonic to mend as much of the cuts as he could. Thankfully, those were few. She was covered in bruises, though. He used the Dermal Regenerator to heal her bruises. Through the entire ordeal, she didn't whimper or cry. She stayed still and quiet, which worried him further. When she hopped down from the examination bed, she hugged him tightly. He expected her to cry then, finally, but she didn't. Her lack of responses worried him. Instead of giving her soothing words, he let his anger seep through.

“I told you not to wander off, Rose.” Anger and hurt flashed behind her eyes, but she still said nothing. “Am I going to have to take you home? Worse, will it be in a body bag?”

“I didn't wander off, Doctor. You did. I told you exactly where I would be. You even told me okay before I left your side. When I came back, you were gone. I looked for you a good ten minutes. Then I felt a sharp pain in my neck. I woke in a cell, with all my clothes gone. I went through Hell before you found me. So don't tell me not wander off, Doctor, when you can't even follow your own rules.”

She spun and left the room, before he could answer. At some point, his mouth had hung open. He closed it with a click and went after her. To apologize, give her a hug, something. When he got in the corridor, she was nowhere to be seen. He asked his ship, who gave him an annoyed hum.

“Fine, I'll find her myself.”

**~DW~~DW~~DW~**

He didn't find her. He'd spent over five hours wandering the halls of the TARDIS and still nothing. Finally, he gave up. He went to their kitchen and plopped down in one of the chairs. He cross his arms over his chest and tilted his head back. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes.

_'Give me some ideas, then. What can I do to make this right?'_

A happy hum sounded from his ship. He'd apparently finally asked the right question. Images flashed through his mind: hot chocolate, popcorn, a movie, blankets, and a roaring fire. A quiet night in, snuggling closely. After being alone for five hours, he was all for holding Rose close. He should have done that in the first place. The TARDIS gave him an affirmative hum, agreeing with him. He could be a real git sometimes, especially when frightened.

He sat up and opened his eyes, finding the TARDIS' suggested items already sitting on the table. He grabbed the items, conveniently on a tray. He patted the wall on his way out of the kitchen. He ambled down the hall, feeling better than he had in hours. He passed by Rose's room. He sent a quick question to his ship. At her affirmative hum, he tapped on the door gently. A muffled reply was all he received. He cracked the door gently. Rose was laying on her bed, mascara running down her face. He felt even worse but plastered what he hoped was a soft smile on his face.

“Rose?”

“Yeah?”

“C'mon. I've got hot chocolate and popcorn. I figured a movie and a quiet night would do us both good. What do you say?”

He saw her smile softly, which made him smile even bigger.

“Sounds lovely. Let me change and I'll meet you in the Media Room.”

“Take all the time you need.”

It wasn't much of an apology on his part. He wasn't used to doing that, really. Once they were settled, he'd try to apologize properly.

 


End file.
